


watch me detonate

by dustofwarfare



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alley!Sex, Angry!sex, M/M, banter as foreplay, noct has a thing for ravus's daemon metal hand, noctis is a mouthy brat, noctis tops from the bottom, ravus has a thing for Noct's mouth, snark as foreplay, storing lube in the armiger, they go with fucking, we could fight or we could fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-04-27
Packaged: 2019-04-28 11:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14448228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustofwarfare/pseuds/dustofwarfare
Summary: “So,” Noctis growls, grabbing his hair again. “For Luna’s sake, let’s just get it out of our system. Gonna be real awkward on holidays if we don’t.”None of us will live long enough to see a holiday, you idiot. Especially not my sister, whose life fades like a flower under the merciless burn of your sun.Instead of saying that, though, Ravus just kisses him. Because he can’t kill Noctis – not here, not right this moment, not until the Hydrean lies coiled up dead and rotting at the bottom of the sea and Noctis’s precious covenant along with it. So if Ravus can’t kill him, then he’ll do the next best thing.(Or: Ravus and Noctis get rid of some of their tension in an alley. In Altissia. Like you do.)





	watch me detonate

**Author's Note:**

  * For [marmolita](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolita/gifts).



> For Marmolita, who is lovely and who shares a love of snarky!Ravus and bratty!Noctis <3 She also beta'd this, because she's awesome that way xDD (Me: "Hey want a fic? Yeah? Cool, do you want to beta it?" LOL) 
> 
> Set sometime in Altissia before the trial of Leviathan, and references Ravus/Loqi, Ravus/Ardyn and Noctis/Gladio. 
> 
> Look, I like my Noctis bratty and mouthy, and my sex full of snark. So that's what you're getting. Also Ardyn shows up because I cannot write a fic without him, what.
> 
> Title from "Detonate" by Black Math.

The streets of Altissia all look the same; winding corridors twisting around staircases, lanterns swinging gently in the breeze, their light reflecting off the dark water of the canals. 

Ravus thinks about Leviathan, a coiled serpent slinking silent beneath the waves, and wonders what it will be like, killing a God. 

His fingers tighten on the hilt of his sword. He will not think about failure. If he dies here, if this city of impossible waterways becomes his tomb, he will slay the Hydrean before the silence of death claims him. 

By the flames he failed his mother. By the seas, he will save his sister. 

Ravus sees his reflection first, before the voice that sets his teeth on edge growls out a low, “Where is she?” 

“As if I would tell you,” Ravus snaps, fighting to keep his composure. His hatred for Noctis runs bone-deep even if, in some quiet moments of reflection, he could understand that Noctis is as caught up in the threads of the prophecy as his sister. 

This is not one of those moments. Just seeing Noctis’s sulky face, tousled hair and the privilege bred into him by eons of power and divine right, is enough to make him want to go for his sword and finish what he started at the stronghold. 

_ While my country burned and my mother died, he and his coward of a father ran like smoke.  _

Noctis’s armiger glows to sudden life; the magic lights the dark water blue. “Your chancellor isn’t here to stop us, this time.“

"How inopportune, the times those of Lucian blood choose to fight,” Ravus hisses. His hand closes over the hilt of his sword. “It matters not to me where I cut you down, impudent whelp.”  

Noctis scowls at him. “You wanna do this or not, huh? Because I’m going to find Luna, and if I have to go through you do to it, oh well.” 

“And then what?” Ravus laughs, the sound is dragging and gravel-rough, a noise hauled up from the depths of his weary soul. “What will you do, Prince Noctis? What could you _possibly_ do for my sister, when you are the very reason she is killing herself on the altar of your so-called _destiny_?” 

“Don’t you understand that she’s – Luna is all that matters!” Noctis says, hands fisted, the royal arms of his thrice-damned ancestors swirling around him like cold flame. And oh, but the part that tears Ravus into shreds is that the stupid, fool boy  _ actually means that.  _

“Are you trying to tell me you  _ love  _ her, Noctis?” Ravus sneers, biting the syllables of the prince’s name. “You, who saw her when you were but a child – when  _ she  _ was but a child. Nay, you do not love her, you  _ need  _ her, and why is that? So she can make covenants with the Astrals, for the glory of your throne?” 

“Let’s not pretend you’re any better,” Noctis says, stepping forward. “Pretending you joined the Empire for her, as if she ever wanted that! Maybe I haven’t seen her since we were children, but that’s apparently the last time you ever listened to her! You know she doesn’t blame my father, or my line, for what happened – so why do you? I get that you hate me, Ravus, but  _ don’t  _ fucking pretend it’s because of her when it isn’t.” 

Anger sluices through him, sharp and hot. Ravus is a man who keeps himself under control, always; he is the Oracle’s sworn protector, and all he wants to do is run this impudent, mouthy prince through with his sword.  _ All I have ever done is for her.  _

_ And what would she do,  _ a voice whispers, _ if you killed her precious prince?  _

Ravus, in a fit of uncharacteristic anger, turns and puts his fist into the brick wall. The pain blossoms over him like a spell, the skin on his knuckles breaking from the impact because of course he hit with his human hand, the daemonic prosthetic hanging useless and damning at his side. 

“I don’t want to hurt her,” Noctis says, and he sounds – tired, like Ravus feels. Tired, and angry, and Ravus has no sympathy for him because Noctis lived in the lap of luxury, cradled by wealth and his father’s magic while Ravus watched his sister prepare to die in Noctis’s name. 

“What you want means nothing to me.” Ravus flexes his hand and winces. There’s blood on his knuckles, though the muted light shows it is still red. That’s something, at least. 

“You are – what did you do?” Noctis’s armiger is gone, and he takes a step toward Ravus. “Did you just punch a brick wall? Wow.  _ Wow _ .” 

“It was either that,” Ravus bites out, fixing him with a glare. “Or your face.” 

“Uh-huh.” Noctis’s magic flashes, but he doesn’t draw forth a weapon. It’s a curative, and he breaks it over Ravus’s hand before Ravus can tell him where to shove his hi-potion. 

“I do not want your pity, your magic, or your –” 

“Ravus, shut up. And next time you hit a wall, maybe hit it with the hand that  _ doesn’t  _ break.” Noctis crosses his arms over his chest, chin lifted like the king he’s so desperate to pretend he is. “And you’re welcome.” 

Without the pain to center him and calm him, the emotional vortex in which Ravus is caught seems dangerously close to tearing him into pieces. “It shall be a cold day in the Infernian’s lair before I thank you for anything,  _ your majesty _ .” 

Noctis gives him a totally unimpressed look. “I don’t remember you being this much of a bitch when we were kids.” 

There is something so utterly infuriating about him – so  _ utterly, utterly infuriating – _ and Ravus takes a deep breath, the slow kind in through his nose and out through his mouth.  “You, on the other hand, are just as spoiled as you were as a child. Pampered and protected from the realities of those who aren’t as privileged as you.” 

“Yeah, okay, this is getting us nowhere.” Noctis studies him, and Ravus takes the opportunity to really  _ look  _ at him, this young prince he hasn’t seen in years save media coverage from Insomnia. Noctis is unfairly attractive, just on the right shade of  _ pretty  _ with his thickly lashed eyes and full mouth, his body lean and muscled beneath his tight clothes. “You know, we could. Not try and kill each other.” 

“I’m not trying to kill you,” Ravus points out. He does not, in any way, like that he just noticed Noctis was attractive. It seems, somehow, worse of a betrayal than anything. 

“We both love her. We both want to help her. We--” 

“There is no  _ we,  _ Noctis. You would do well to make your alliances elsewhere.” Ravus watches with something like satisfaction as Noctis’s mouth tightens in obvious annoyance. He should, perhaps, stop staring at Noctis’s mouth. 

“If you really believed I meant her harm, you wouldn’t have let Ardyn stop you from fighting me. And there’s no one here to stop us  _ now _ , so...admit it. You don’t want to kill me.” Noctis takes a step closer. 

Ravus stares down his nose at him and wills the infuriating brat not to step any closer. “I’m not  _ going  _ to kill you. It has nothing to do with what I want, Noctis.” 

“So you want to, what? Spar? Want to rough me up? Will that make you feel better?” 

Ravus tips his head back. He laughs up at the sky, like he’s daring some god to come down and punish either of them for whatever they’re doing. “I don’t think you’re capable of giving me anything that might make me  _ feel better _ .” 

“Yeah? I can fight, you know. No weapons, just the two of us. Afraid I’ll knock you into the water and you’ll end up drowning in all that fabric?” Noctis smiles at him. It’s not a particularly nice smile, but it’s no less attractive because of it. “I’ll let you take your pretty coat off first, don’t worry.” 

“Would you just leave me alone,” Ravus snaps, losing his patience. 

“Come on, Ravus. What?” Noctis steps forward, again, but he clearly can’t learn like a normal person to read body language that says  _ I’ll end you if you get near me.  _ “You want to hit me. Admit it.” 

“Yes. With something sharp, so you won’t get back up,” Ravus snaps. He does not like to lose his temper, and he definitely doesn’t like Noctis’s tendency to keep inching closer like they’re going to fight. 

_ Or kiss.  _

No.  _ No.  _

“You know what? Fuck you, Ravus. I have got way too much shit to deal with, I don’t need you and your overprotective brother shit on top of it.” 

Oh, well, now Ravus really  _ is  _ going to kill him. “If you cared about Luna half as much as you seem to want to me to think you do, then you would realize  _ I don’t want her to die. _ ” 

“I don’t either!” Noctis is right up in his space, now. “Gods, what is your  _ problem _ ? I’m not the one hunting her! Yeah, I get it, you think you’re doing the right thing, and  _ so do I.  _ Maybe you don’t agree but for fuck’s sake, you -- you can’t really think I -- Ravus, it’s  _ Luna _ .” 

“I’m aware, Noctis,” Ravus bites out, and then, very carefully, “I suggest you move away from me.” It’s not a warm night, and he can practically feel the heat from Noctis’s body, radiating off him like waves. 

“Or, what? You already said you’re not going to kill me.” Noctis’s midnight eyes flash up at him. There is, Ravus supposes, something to be said for his determination, as misplaced and irritating as it is. “So. Fine. Let’s fight and get this over with.” 

“If I try and fight you, one of us won’t get back up,” Ravus informs him, which, in his opinion, is being far more tolerant of this temper tantrum than Noctis deserves. 

“Is that so?” Noctis studies him in a way that sets Ravus immediately on edge, like he’s just now noticed that Ravus might be looking at his mouth more than strictly necessary. He drags his tongue along his lower lip. “Fine. Then we can fuck.” 

“ _ What _ ?” Ravus must be going mad. There is no other explanation for this. “You’re not -- surely you’re not serious.” 

“Why not? You don’t want to fight me, we can’t kill each other. Leaves just one option to clear the air, doesn’t it?” 

“And what on  _ Eos  _ makes you think I want to put my hands on you for any reason than to strangle the breath from your lungs?” 

Noctis gives him a look that is almost pitying. “Because I can see? Come on. You’re staring at me like you want to fuck me. Maybe not nicely, but that’s fine. Better, probably. So?” 

“You, who would have me believe you are  _ in love  _ with my sister, are offering to, what? Act a whore just so your life is easier and I--” 

“Oh, would you just  _ shut up _ ?” Noctis shoves him, less like a warrior and more like a petulant  _ child  _ and really, did Ravus expect anything else? 

But he pushes him right into the wall Ravus just tried to break with his hand, and he’s impossible because he’s shorter than Ravus, younger, should be intimidated – Ravus is the  _ Imperial High Commander of an Empire  _ and Noctis is nothing but a king of a broken kingdom, and he should not be so bold _.  _ So Ravus glares at him and says, with all the maturity of a man ten or twelve years younger than his twenty-eight years, “ _ Make me. _ ” 

“Yeah? Fine.” Noctis grabs him by the lapel of his coat, hauls him down, and kisses him. 

Ravus is so surprised, he doesn’t know what to do. Noctis’s mouth is warm, hot – and he’s kissing Ravus like he thinks this is going to, what, shock him? Horrify him? 

Ravus turns them, half-lifts Noctis up before pushing him back against the wall and leaning in close. “Is this how Lucian kings fight their battles, then?” 

Noctis fucking  _ smirks  _ at him, not cowed in the least. “You’re not going to fight me, and I’m hardly going to kill Luna’s  _ brother _ , even if I think you’re an asshole.” 

“As if you could, you little –” 

“So,” Noctis growls, grabbing his hair again. “For Luna’s sake, let’s just get it out of our system. Gonna be real awkward on holidays if we don’t.” 

_ None of us will live long enough to see a holiday, you idiot. Especially not my sister, whose life fades like a flower under the merciless burn of your sun.  _

Instead of saying that, though, Ravus just kisses him. Because he can’t kill Noctis – not here, not right this moment, not until the Hydrean lies coiled up dead and rotting at the bottom of the sea and Noctis’s precious  _ covenant  _ along with it. So if Ravus can’t kill him, then he’ll do the next best thing. 

“This is a dangerous game you’re playing, boy,” Ravus snarls into his mouth, shifting, pressing the hard ridge of his cock against Noctis with deliberate intent. “A man’s game. I’ve no patience for a tease who doesn’t know what he’s doing.” 

“Oh, I know what I’m doing,” Noctis snaps, biting at Ravus’s lower lip and sucking it into his mouth. He wriggles and shifts against Ravus, legs wrapping tight around Ravus’s hips. “And I’m not the one wearing sixteen belts and a floor-length coat. If you’re that hard-up for it, maybe don’t guard your virtue like an artifact in a tomb.” 

“I don’t like you,” Ravus says, shoving Noctis’s head to the side to mouth at his neck. “And unless you  _ stop talking,  _ that’s how I’m going to fuck you.” 

“What was it you said? Make me?” Noctis taunts him, laughing at the look that gets him. “Like I want it any other way, from you.” When Ravus tangles his fingers in Noctis’s hair and pulls, Noctis moans.

The sound goes right to Ravus’s cock. This is stupid. He can’t believe he’s doing this, kissing Noctis like he’s trying to devour his  _ soul  _ against a wall in Altissia. It feels so good his hands are shaking, and he can feel the slight tremble in Noctis’s thighs as they tighten around him. 

He grabs Noctis around the throat with the prosthetic hand. “I could choke you to death.” 

“Or you could fuck me. Except I’m starting to think all you can do is talk.” Noctis reaches up and grabs Ravus’s wrist, which of course Ravus can’t feel but he can see – and some strange curiosity makes him release his grip as bidden, and then Noctis draws his hand close and sucks two of Ravus’s metal fingers into his mouth. 

Ravus can’t feel that, either, but someone should tell his dick that. 

Noctis’s dark blue eyes are locked onto his, and the corner of his mouth lifts up just a little as he sucks and licks at the cold metallic fingers of Ravus’s daemonic hand.  _ I’m not afraid of you,  _ the gesture says, and it’s more arousing than Ravus wants it to be. 

So he pulls his hand away, and replaces it with his human one. “Do that somewhere I’m able to actually feel it, and I might be impressed.” 

Noctis snorts a laugh and actually does what Ravus says, sucking his fingers into his mouth and this time, well, Ravus feels it all; the lash of that wicked tongue licking at the tips, the suction, the drag of Noctis’s teeth. Noctis still has that  _ look  _ on his face the whole time, too, like he’s winning and oh, no, that’s not going to do at all. 

Ravus is good at fighting. He’s also good at this, because he did not get to be the Imperial High Commander without learning how to fuck someone incoherent when the occasion called for it. There’s a reason Loqi stopped arguing with him on command decisions, and Ravus hadn’t caught the Chancellor’s eye because of his looks and military strategy alone. Sex and politics make the world go round, and Niflheim is no different. 

Ravus shoves a thigh between Noctis’s legs, shifting him, easily holding Noctis up against the wall with his prosthetic arm. He pulls his fingers out of Noctis’s mouth and drags them wetly across his cheek. “Adequate. Perhaps I’ll let you try it on my cock.” 

“Not worried I’ll bite it off?” Noctis asks, and he’s practically humping Ravus’s thigh, grinding eagerly against it. He’s just as hard as Ravus. “And are you gonna last that long?” 

“I’ll make it last, don’t worry,” Ravus hisses, and he doesn’t miss the way Noctis’s eyes go dark. “Ah, is that what you like, little king? To be treated like some whore who wants it hard and fast in an alley?” 

“Ravus,” Noctis says, grabbing Ravus by the hair with two hands. “ _ Yes _ . Great. That sounds great. Go for it.” 

For a moment, Ravus just sort of blinks at him. This is not – nothing about this is going as it should. 

Noctis’s smile is slow and challenging. “You should hear the shit Gladio says to me when he fucks me. All about what a good little cockslut I am.” 

Ravus isn’t sure if that’s true or if Noctis is just saying this to get him going but it doesn’t matter. He laughs, harshly, and reaches down to fumble at the fastening of Noctis’s pants. “I should have known. My sister’s would-be husband, bending over for every royal retainer with a pretty cock.” 

“Oh, it’s a  _ very  _ pretty cock,” Noctis says, undaunted. He kisses Ravus, his tongue insistent and his teeth sharp on Ravus’s abused lower lip. “Is yours? It must not be, since you’re determined not to let me see it.” 

Ravus turns them again so that it’s his back to the wall.  “Well? Kneel for me, your majesty, and show me what a good little cocksucker you are.” 

Noctis takes his sweet time kneeling in front of Ravus. His hands immediately work at the belts, and the long coat, finally getting Ravus’s cock out of his pants. He grins up at him, unrepentant, and Ravus thinks  _ you look like a king on your knees, if nowhere else  _ but doesn’t say it. He’s not even sure if he means it as a compliment or an insult at this point, and honestly, he doesn’t much care. 

He does moan, though, when Noctis takes him deep. He’s good at it, better than Ravus expected. He looks pretty with Ravus’s dick in his mouth, staring up at him with his messy hair half obscuring his dark blue gaze. 

Ravus grips hard at Noctis’s hair and thrusts in and out of his mouth, not careful, putting all his frustration into it and letting himself smirk when he hears Noctis choke. He can see tears stinging the edges of Noctis’s drowning-blue eyes and he likes that more than he should. 

He can see Noctis’s arm moving and knows what he’s doing; just the thought that Noctis Lucis Caelum,  _ chosen king,  _ son and scion of a hated dynasty is jerking himself off while sucking Ravus’s cock for all he’s worth…it’s almost too much, and Ravus has to forcibly stop himself from finishing when he feels Noctis swallow around his cock. 

It isn’t until he’s pulled Noctis to his feet and shoved him face-first into the wall that he realizes they’re missing something, and it doesn’t stop him from pulling Noctis’s pants and underwear down – he likes that, knowing that Noctis is exposed out here in the open, with only Ravus between him and any unlucky tourist who happens down the alleyway. He’ll use spit unless Noctis tells him not to. 

Noctis braces one hand on the wall and turns to look at him. His mouth is swollen and wet, his face flushed and he looks like sex incarnate – he’s also still talking, which, perhaps Ravus doesn’t mind quite as much when what he says is, “Gonna fuck me like you hate me, huh?” 

“Yes,” Ravus growls, and bites the back of his neck, hard so that there’s a mark – he has no doubt Noctis will get rid of it the second they’re done but he doesn’t care, seeing it there is so arousing he reaches down to squeeze the base of his cock to keep himself on the edge instead of hurtling over it. 

“Gonna need something,” Noctis drawls, insolent, and there’s a bright flash of blue – his magic again, but this time he presses a tube of something into Ravus’s human hand. “Here. Try and fuck me dry and there’s a sword where that came from, with your fucking name on it.” 

Ravus struggles to get the cap open – he probably doesn’t need to be holding Noctis against the wall, not when Noctis has made it clear he wants this, but he likes doing it too much to stop. He finally gets his fingers, the human ones, covered in lube and drops his hand, seeking the warm, tight heat and slipping inside. He starts with two fingers and is gratified by Noctis’s slight hiss, but Noctis immediately starts fucking back on his fingers and Ravus is panting, loudly, while he fucks him open. 

“Not bad,” Noctis bites out, but Ravus can see his fingers scrabbling at the wall as if looking for purchase. He’s squirming, clearly trying to get his other hand between himself and the wall and around his cock. 

“No, you’ll come when I make you or not at all,” Ravus snarls, grabbing his hand with his prosthetic and slamming it up on the wall. “Keep it there.” 

“Make it worth my while, and I will,” Noctis says, with a heated look. Ravus’s fingers curl inside him, brushing over his prostate and Noctis gives a little shuddering gasp and writhes in a way that isn’t practiced, isn’t taunting, and the  _ honesty _ of it is hotter than it has any right to be.  

Ravus fucks him with two fingers until they’re both panting for it, and their enmity is lost for a moment beneath a tide of good, old-fashioned lust. Noctis’s taunts have turned into encouragement, breathy and low, and hearing him gasp out, “Yeah, fuck, another one, do it harder,” is enough to make Ravus want to get his cock inside of him,  _ now.  _

Instead, he fucks Noctis with three fingers and watches Noctis fall apart, moans tumbling unchecked from his pretty, sulky little mouth as he wantonly pushes back to meet every one of Ravus’s thrusts. 

“Look at you,” Ravus says, lost in that moment just as much as Noctis. The heat between them is heady and rich, almost tangible in the humid night air. “Such a pretty whore you are, why try and be anything other than this?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Noctis gasps, head thrown back. His eyes slide half-closed, only a glint of dark blue beneath his heavy lids. 

“Shall you beg me,  _ your majesty _ ?” Ravus sneers, finding the lube he’d stashed in his coat pocket and using his prosthetic hand to open the tube and slick up the cold metal. “Beg for my cock, for me to fuck you like a common slut?” 

Noctis kicks him with the heel of his boot. It’s completely ineffective, but he says, “Ravus, shut up and fuck me already,” and that gets Ravus to drop his hand and slick up his cock, shuddering at the cool touch of his metal fingers against his own heated flesh. He positions himself and pulls his fingers free, and there’s a moment where they move together, trying to find the angle. 

Ravus is taller than Noctis, enough that he has to half-lift him with his prosthetic arm to get him in the right place to take his cock. He’s not gentle and Noctis clearly doesn’t care, wants it hard and fast just like Ravus wants to give it to him. It’s not easy, they’re both too on edge for it to be anything but messy and it takes a few desperate thrusts for Ravus to find a rhythm once he’s inside. 

When he finds it, it doesn’t last long. Noctis is tight and hot around him, the pressure making Ravus’s eyes roll back in his head and neither of them speak save for a few gasps, Ravus’s muttered, “Take it,  _ take it,”  _ and Noctis’s response of, “yeah, give it to me.” 

Ravus slides his hand around Noctis’s cock, but Noctis surprises him by knocking at his wrist and saying, “Give me the other one,” and it takes Ravus a moment to figure out that Noctis wants his metal hand instead of flesh. 

Ravus kisses him as he shifts, obediently wrapping the fingers of his prosthetic around Noctis instead of his hand. Noctis moans and Ravus mutters, “This is dangerous, I could maim you,” and Noctis just laughs, like Ravus said something funny and Ravus almost  _ does  _ squeeze too hard just to prove a point that you don’t  _ taunt a man with an inhumanly strong metal hand around your cock.  _ But Ravus is nothing if not ironclad self-control wrapped in layers of bitterness and determination, and he keeps the touch firm but not crushing, jerking Noctis off in time to his thrusts. 

It doesn’t take that many strokes before Noctis comes hard on Ravus’s cock and all over his stroking metal hand, all his muscles squeezing and tightening when he does. Ravus thrusts inside him gracelessly and bites Noctis on the shoulder through the fabric of his shirt when he comes. The world goes white and his knees buckle, and he has the presence of mind to at least let go before he does irreparable harm with his metal hand. 

It takes him a long time to come down from the pleasure, which is making him light-headed and woozy as he struggles to catch his breath. He eases out of Noctis’s body, hissing because even that feels good, and he’d be angry about that if he had the energy. 

He pulls away and falls back against the wall, fixing his clothes with one trembling human hand. Next to him, he can barely make out Noctis doing the same, pulling up his clothes and finding the lube that had dropped to the ground, before tossing it in the air and vanishing it away to wherever his magic keeps it. 

“Too bad you’re not interested in being a retainer,” Noctis says, at length. His voice sounds lazy, satisfied, pleased in a way that will probably piss Ravus off later when he thinks about it. Noctis steps in front of him, then reaches up and pats him gently on his face. “You’ve got a hell of an attitude problem, but you’re not bad at following directions.” 

Ravus just scowls and swats at him. “Go  _ away _ . We’re done here.” 

“Sure.” Noctis’s magic whirls, and he holds out something with a smirk. “Want this? You look like you might need helping walking.” 

It’s an  _ elixir.  _

The cocky little shit. Ravus takes it in his metal hand, looks him dead in the eyes, and hurls it across the street toward the canal, where it hits the water with a satisfying splash. 

Noctis throws his head back and laughs. He tosses Ravus a sarcastic salute, and then he does what his line does best and leaves, disappearing into the shadows until Ravus is left standing alone. 

Ravus is not proud of himself; not for wanting that, for taking it, or enjoying it as much as he did. He should probably feel guilty, considering he technically just fucked his sister’s fiancée—but he does not believe Noctis will wed Luna, not in this lifetime. If he’s wrong about all of this, and Noctis is the Chosen King…Ravus will have more sins to pay for than one hurried fuck in an Altissian alley. 

Scowling, he rakes a hand through his hair and turns on his heel, striding back toward the Leville. It’s late, and there are very few people out and about which is good; he does not think he’s in the mood to deal with a crush of drunk, lost tourists. The air is cool and he can smell a hint of rain, but it hasn’t fallen by the time he makes it back to his room. 

Ardyn is sprawled on the small divan next to the bed like he has any right to be there, reading a book. He looks up with a smirk and says, “Did you enjoy your walk?” 

For a moment, Ravus wonders if the person he fucked in the alley was really Noctis at all. Ardyn can alter his appearance, somehow, Ravus has seen him do it plenty of times. 

It’s unlikely. Ardyn annoys him in completely different ways than does Noctis. 

“Quite,” Ravus says, when it’s clear Ardyn is still waiting for an answer. “Is there something you wanted, Chancellor?” 

Ardyn’s smile is slow and wicked. “Merely to wish you a pleasant evening, High Commander. It would seem someone beat me to it.” He laughs.  

There’s no way Ardyn could have known what he’d just done, unless Ardyn was following him and watching. And if so, why does it matter? What business is it of Ardyn’s who Ravus fucks? He’d stopped Ravus from killing him, but that’s not at all the same. 

“Consider your wishes given, then. If that’s all?” 

Ardyn rises to his feet, all lazy, dangerous grace, and moves over toward him. He pats him on the side of the face, in a gesture eerily similar to Noctis’s before he’d left the alley. “Oh, Ravus. My angry, exiled prince. Even having the Lucian king on his knees isn’t enough to make you lighten up. One wonders what it would take.”  

“Get  _ out _ ,” Ravus snarls, fingers – human and mechanical – clenched at his side. Leave it to Ardyn to ruin whatever peace his momentary lapse in judgement might have brought. 

Ardyn bows, collects his hat from Ravus’s dresser and heads toward the door. “Until tomorrow, then.” 

Ravus doesn’t say anything. Outside, it starts to rain.   


End file.
